Lost
by Haveyouseenmyghost
Summary: Claire Redfield is on a mission for Terrasave, checking on the validity of rumors concerning BOW sightings. Always ready to expose the corrupt, she finds herself unintentionally diving headfirst into a world that's more complicated than "good" or "bad". She might end up losing her way, in more sense than just one. Rating may be subject to change. Claire X Wesker
1. SS Elizabeth

A warm ocean breeze blew over the S.S. Elizabeth as the ship made anchor about 10 miles south of an island near the Brazilian coastline. A woman sat in a chair, looking out over the seemingly endless ocean and trying to determine where the water started, and the sky began. "Claire!" somebody on deck shouted. The redhead turned around, startled out of her trivial thoughts. "Yes?" she answered.

"Kennedy just checked in, he hasn't left Washington yet," the man on deck responded. Claire rolled her eyes._ How very much like Leon Scott Kennedy to be so late_, she thought to herself. She glanced over to the helipad. _He should have been here yesterday when he was supposed to. _She was growing restless. "Do I have the go ahead to leave yet?"

"Not until the government representative shows up, captain's orders. You aren't going in by yourself."

"If he isn't here by tonight, I'm going," Claire grumbled. They were supposed to have been on the island by yesterday, but that didn't seem to be happening due to Leon's stunning punctuality. There had been rumors about B.O.W. sightings in the surrounding ocean, and Claire Redfield was checking on the validity of the rumors on behalf of Terrasave. She was here to see what was going on, and if the heresay was true then to make sure that whoever was responsible for it be held liable. Leon was supposed to be coming along, if as nothing else than as a political pawn to show that the American government wasn't just turning their back on these sorts of things. And judging by the way Leon spoke, it didn't sound like there was any activity going on here that the government knew about, because if they had actually thought that there was viral weaponry, they would have sent in the military and kept it under wraps. _It's sad that you can't trust anybody to keep the public informed nowadays,_ she thought. But that why she worked for Terrasave, to keep people informed.

Her phone went off in her pocket, and she took it out to see a text message from Chris. "_Find anything out?_" -Chris. Claire smiled. She knew her brother was hoping it was another wild goose chase. Always playing the role of the overly protective brother, he had all but begged her to just take a deskjob at Terrasave. But ever since Raccoon City, she had felt it was her responsibility to see to it that those sorts of incidents didn't happen, to the point where she would have felt guilty just sitting around pushing paper. Not that sitting at a desk all day appealed to her in the least. She replied to his message. "_Not yet, still waiting on pretty boy to show up. You busy saving lives?_"-Claire. _"Doing my best. I'm glad we got that cell plan with no roaming charges. We would be royally fucked._" Claire chuckled to herself, pocketing her phone for the time being, and headed up the steps to the upper deck. She was going to have a word with the captain.

* * *

A man wearing all black and a gas mask was looking up at a a screen in a room illuminated only by computers. There were several monitors all around it, all only portraying birds and the usual exotic foliage. But this particular screen showed everything within a 30 mile radius of the island. There was a large, oval-shaped blob showing up on the above-water sonar device. the man glanced over his shoulder, where his subordinates were also observing the shape.  
"Who is going to tell him?" one said. "He'll be pIssed," said another. The man in the gas mask rolled his eyes at them both. "I will personally let him know. Sit tight, I'll tell you the news." And with that, HUNK left the room and started down the hallway. His combat boots were muffled by the soft, plush carpet as he headed through the regal mansion-esque building towards one particular door, away from everything else. The one door in the building that scared nearly every employee to the point of preferring the underground labs to the house. HUNK knocked on the hard, oak door. "Come in," drawled a slightly annoyed voice from inside. HUNK opened the door that led to Albert Wesker's personal study.

**A/N- I'm aware of the fact that this chapter was so short, and that not much actually has happened so far. But it's meant as more of an intro than anything else. Please, read and review. Let me know what you think, and if I should continue. **


	2. Welcome to the Jungle

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil

The blonde man was sitting in a computer chair and didn't even turn to see who it was that had intruded on his work space. Rather, he sat there typing in commands on his laptop while the screens in front of him changed to different satellite images from different parts of the world. Albert Wesker always kept himself well-informed about any goings-on in the pharmaceutical world. It helped to stay several steps ahead of everybody else. HUNK knew that to any other onlooker, it would appear as though the tyrant was just watching the screens, but after having been under his command for a few years now, he knew that Weskers mind was never singularly focused on something so simple; he was calmly calculating his next move, and thinking up new variations for his viral research as well. The black-clad man in the gas mask stood just a few feet inside the doorway, waiting for permission to speak. It was always a good idea to show his employer as much respect as possible. He knew was he was capable of. After about 5 minutes of standing there and listening to the tapping of computer keys, Wesker spoke. "What is it?"

"A ship has been spotted about 6.2 clicks south of the beach. We haven't been able to get a clear visual, but looking at the reports, it would appear that it has been moving around the area since yesterday," HUNK stated confidently.

"Send a team out to patrol the area and greet anybody who comes ashore," Wesker responded after a moment's contemplation. This would be the first disruption that they'd had since arriving to the island, but it wouldn't delay his progress if he had anything to say about it. HUNK nodded and left the room. Wesker watched one of the security cameras and saw Dr. Death plodding back down the hallway and gather his team together. The soldier had held onto many of the traits that had once made him an asset to Umbrella's old task force, which included emotional detachment and a strong will to see any mission through until the end. But unlike so many others, he lacked ambition. The blond knew that HUNK's only loyalty lay wherever there was a higher monetary value, so he made sure to pay him more than any company would be willing to. People who were powered by nothing more than money left a bad taste in his mouth. Then again, they were far less dangerous than those powered by ambition.

* * *

It was early morning, and the sun had only just started to come up. Claire stepped out of her cabin and out onto the deck. There was still no sign of Leon, and she was quite perturbed by the fact that everything was at a standstill just so that the government could have their eyes in the area. She sighed as she pulled her bright red hair back into a ponytail and got ready to leave. Yesterday the captain had told her that they could not send her out unless Leon was here, or they risked losing government support. Claire inwardly scowled at the thought. I suppose they have to keep up appearances. And part of those appearances included funding Terrasave missions every so often. She half thought that maybe it was so that they wouldn't think to look into the government itself for violations of human rights.

She appeared to be the only one awake, and everything was eerily quiet except for the waves lapping against the sides of the boat. That's it, she though. I'm going with or without him. And with that, she grabbed a small backpack with some food, water bottles, and her camera in it, tucked her 9mm into her belt, hid several knives around her body (she had learned that you could never be too careful through Rockfort and Raccoon City) and climbed down into the small boat that was on the side of the ship. Once all the lines were untied, she pulled the string on the motor and was off towards the island. It would just be a quick in and out, a glimpse into the island to get an idea of what could be going on. Surely there wouldn't be any trouble.

At that moment the boat started swaying, and she heard a scraping noise coming from underneath her feet. Claire Redfield looked at the water, and she could feel her heart jump to her throat. There was a large patch of dark water, about 20 feet long and 20 feet wide, all around the small boat. Something was floating underneath her, something very large. she looked down at her small handgun and cringed. It wasn't going to do her much good if this thing was as big as it appeared. Yet the boat moved over top of it, and it didn't follow. Now that was...confusing. Claire stopped the boat and looked back. What she saw was almost as bad as a B.O.W. would have been. It was a large piece of wood with a faded Umbrella logo painted onto it, though it was barely discernible through the rot and mold. She shook her head as she started the boat back up. The sight of the symbol almost made her regret leaving the ship. After all, wherever the Umbrella logo was spotted, sunshine and rainbows didn't exactly follow. Umbrella had fallen, but there were still other pharmaceutical companies with similar goals. And while Claire was hoping to photograph something that would bring solid evidence that there was testing at this place, she didn't exactly relish facing a B.O.W. yet again.

She pulled out her phone and started dialing Chris's number. The BSAA should know about this, right? _Ring, ring. _He was currently in Russia, and she had no idea what time it was there. It was close to 6 AM in South America. _Why aren't you picking up, meathead. _She shut the phone and crammed it into her pocket. If the BSAA ended up having to get involved, they'd need more evidence. Claire almost laughed at herself for thinking that the organization would come just by hearing, "Hey, people have reported seeing giant frogs in the area, and I saw a piece of driftwood with some paint on it." A few minutes later, she arrived at the beach and pulled her boat ashore as far as possible. Up and down, the beach went on as far as the eye could see, and straight ahead was nothing but a dark, dense jungle. The trees hardly had any space between them, and where there were small areas between, it was all bush. Claire started on through the trees, crushing the foliage with her heavy brown boots. Her "shit kickers," as Chris liked to call them. Claire's skin crawled. There were so many mosqitoes, all trying to get a piece of her, and...what was that? She quickly turned to her right. There was a crashing sound coming from over there, but it was hard to see very far because there were so many trees.

* * *

H.U.N.K. and his team were headed towards the shore when they heard the gunshots. It was coming somewhere from the east, and they quickly turned to head towards it. Dr. Death had chosen 4 others to accompany him, and he noticed that he was the only one who had had the sense to wear a gasmask.

During his days in the USS, he had witnessed every last one of his men fall to the infected, whether it be through the creature, or the virus itself. One of his troops had been bitten, and Dr. Death could only watch as the man's strength slowly drained, and then the man tried turning on him. He still wears his gas mask on duty to this day, because no matter how many failsafes there are, a biohazard can always happen. And whether the next large-scale one would be airborne or not, he'd be the only one of them here prepared. It was about 85 degrees out, but with his body armor it brought it up to about 95 degrees. He didn't mind. It was worth the extra protection. Besides, the island had a large population of infected.

**A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews and favorites ^-^ I hope you will all enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it. And I know, I know. You're waiting for Wesker. Shhhhhh. Soon. **


	3. Trouble

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil**

Leon S. Kennedy was on a helicoptor headed for the coordinates of the S.S. Elizabeth when his phone started ringing. He didn't even bother answering it, seeing as the helicopter's blades were so loud that it would be near impossible to hear and to be heard. He knew he was running late, and he knew he would catch a tongue-lashing from Claire for it. It wasn't something that he had been able to help. During his latest mission in Russia, he had been ordered to pull out of the area. The mission was nowhere near completion, so he had blatantly ignored the order and shut off his communication devices until he was finished. Hunnigan tried to cover for him, but as soon as he got back he had been held for questioning. They kept asking the same things, but rewording the question every time. "Are you a sympathizer with the current Eastern Slav Republic movement?" "How do you feel about the revolution going on there?" His responses were simple, generic, and seemed to get him off of the "we are going to put you on trial as a traitor" hook. Anything for Sherry...either way, he would be arriving at the ship within the hour.

* * *

Claire was standing over the corpse of a zombie. Her first shot had missed and hit the tree behind it, but the second had left a neat hole in it's head. _Neat_. She almost laughed at herself. _I just used the word neat, a word that could be used almost interchangeably with "clean", to describe a bullet hole in a zombie. It's a wonder I don't need counseling. _She had just dug the camera out of her pack and was about to take a picture of the zombie for proof, when the bushes all around her started rustling. Branches were breaking, boots were crunching, but she couldn't tell what direction it was coming from. Within a split second, 4men appeared through the greenery. And they all had their guns pointed at her. She had set her own down to dig out her camera, so it was sitting at her feet.

_Of course, whenever anybody else runs into a mission head-on, everything goes fine. But nope, not me. Something has to go wrong, _Claire thought bitterly. _Fuck you, world. _

One of the men walked up, kicked her gun away with his heel, and started to pat her down to see if she had any other weapons. He got the knife out of her boot, the one on her leg...She kept focused on the knife she had tucked under the back of her shirt and sticking out of her pants. His hand patted up her legs roughly, and almost got to where he would have surely felt the knife...she grabbed the back of his head, pulled it down, and swiftly brought her knee up to smash it into his face "Bitch!" the man howled. She was about to go for the knife when a pair of hands grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to the rest of her body. She kicked her legs hopelessly, hitting her heels against the other man's shins, but to no avail. She turned her head to see that it was a man in a gas mask. When she looked forward again, she was staring straight down the barrel of an assault rifle. The man holding it was the one who she had kneed in the face, and who now had an oddly-angled nose. There was a beeping noise in the midst of all this commotion, and one of the men standing by took out his phone and held it to his ear. "Affirmative," the man said before pocketing the phone. "He wants anybody we find brought in."

The broken-nosed man lowered his gun, and the man holding her loosened his grip slightly. "Don't even think about it," he warned as he noticed her hand twitching toward her lower back. HUNK pulled the knife out of the back of her pants and threw it into the brush. "Who else is with you?"

"Nobody."

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, I thought I'd enjoy the ocean breeze, the beach, the decomposing corpses walking around..."

"Don't be a smartass," HUNK cautioned. "You may not have to answer to me, but you will answer to Wesker." Her head started spinning as he said the name. Wesker? As in, Albert Wesker? The man who was BSAA's public enemy #1, the man who had betrayed STARS and left them for dead? The man who almost killed her and Chris both on Rockfort Island, and had taken Steve's body for testing? THAT Wesker? Her mind was going a million miles a minute, but she didn't have to think about it for too long, because just then she felt something cold and hard hit the back of her head, and everything went dark.

* * *

When she awoke, her head was pounding, and she found herself in a brightly lit room. Her eyes wouldn't open more than a slit at first because the lights were so bright, but she forced them open anyway. The room had white walls, with a gray tiled floor and a large stainless steel table in the middle of the room. She was sitting in a chair with her hands handcuffed to the underside of the table, and her feet to the chair legs. Not only was her head throbbing, but her knee was sore as well from where it had come into contact with the mercenary's face. _At least I got in one good hit. But what did I get myself into_._ If I had waited for Leon...wait, Leon! He'll come looking for me without a doubt, especially if I don't check in on the radio_. There was a glimmer of hope, but just as the thought crossed her mind of Leon coming to her rescue, it was pushed aside as a door somewhere behind her opened. The door shut again and she could feel somebody staring at her. She didn't turn to see who it was, just sat there staring at the wall across from her for about 30 seconds. It was the longest 30 seconds of her life, and she could feel goosebumps appearing on the back of her arms. The silence was finally broken as the other person in the room walked around the table and took a seat in the chair across from her. It was the last person that she had wanted to see.

"Well, well. Miss Redfield, what a surprise to see you here." If Wesker was surprised to see her, he didn't let it register on his face. _Not that he shows much of any emotion_, Claire thought. She was staring at her reflection in his sunglasses. She had hoped to never run into this blackhearted man again, for wherever he was, trouble was sure to follow.

**A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews, I really appreciate it. My chapters are progressively getting longer, but it's a work in progress. But please stick around for the next installment, I do my best not to disappoint. **


	4. Oh, What a Tangled Web We Weave

**Disclaimer- I do not own Resident Evil**

Leon arrived at the S.S. Elizabeth, and the captain of the ship approached him immediately. "Where the hell were you? Claire is nowhere to be found, but one of the boats is missing so I'm assuming she decided to take matters into her own hands."

"Typical Redfield. Do you have her location?"

"No, we haven't been able to make radio contact. Which is very unlike her, she would at least report in to let us know where she is. Not to mention, if your bosses catch wind that she left without you, we might even lose our funding."

"Something is wrong." Leon knew very well the situation at hand. The US government didn't want any part of anything that they could not control. Leon was only sent along to "monitor" the mission and make sure that only things in the "best interest of the United States" were done. And by best interest, it was meant that if he was to come across any B.O.W.'s, he was to take samples, which he refused to do. The government had custody of Sherry Birkin, the girl he and Claire had helped escape from Raccoon City, because she was the only known living person who had G Virus antibodies. He was promised that so long as he completed all of his assigned missions, Sherry would be released into his custody as soon as they were able to manufacture a vaccine for the G-Virus. Leon didn't mind being in the service of the United States government, at least not at first. But through experience, he had learned just how corrupt the system really was, and how many secrets were kept from the public. They tended to send him on missions that involved biological weapons, mainly because he had experience in such matters, but Leon also had to wonder if it was because they didn't want any more people knowing about said weaponry than necessary.

Terrasave was always happy to have Leon as the one "assisting" their missions, simply because they knew he wouldn't report anything to the government that he didn't have to. Such as Claire having left the ship without him, he would attempt to cover it up. Not everybody knew just how corrupted the United States government really was, it tended to be just the people directly involved with them. Or Claire. He told Claire everything, because she was very down to earth, and had the uncanny ability to look at a situation from several perspectives. She always knew just what to do or say in any situation.

* * *

"Might I inquire as to what you are doing intruding on my island?" Wesker asked. Claire's throat suddenly felt very dry. _Am I really being interrogated by Wesker? _This was the man who had caused the deaths of hundreds of people; the man who was, on paper anyways, dead. Her mind went to Steve, the man who had, with his dying breaths, told her that he loved her. She could feel her ears turning red, as they did when she got angry.

"What did you do with Steve's body?!" Claire shouted at the man across the table. She attempted to stand up, but the cuffs attached to the bottom of the table forced her to sit back down.

"My, my. What a temper you have, Miss Redfield," Wesker commented, sounding amused. Claire glared directly at him. Why was he so calm and collected? It pissed her off to no end knowing that nothing he had done to her or others effected him in the least. She'd love to wipe that look off his face. "You never answered my question."

"I was looking for a unicorn. You see, Chris doesn't believe me that they exist, and-"

"Your sarcasm will get you nowhere," he interrupted before she had finished. "Now, if you were wise, you would tell me what you are doing here." Claire scrunched her nose in frustration.

"I'm here for Terrasave. Somebody called in and said that they had seen a 3-foot-tall toad. We figured that we would humor them, and take a look." Wesker didn't say anything, just waited for her to continue. Had an experiment gotten out and nobody notified him? "Ever since the outbreak in Raccoon, people have been on edge and have been reporting anything and everything. We used to send out entire teams to investigate, but now we're spread so thin..." She trailed off. Why was she telling him any of this? Wesker just sat there listening, looking completely apathetic. She bit her tongue. Was he just going to kill her as soon as he got all he needed to know?

"How many aboard your ship?" How had he even known about that? What should she say? 100? 3? The truth? If it was too many, would he consider them a threat? If it was a small amount, would he consider it an easy task? _Goddammit Claire, stop overthinking everything. _She looked down at her hands.

"32."

"And where is your brother?" Claire's head jolted up at the mention of Chris, and her blood automatically started to boil again.

"My brother has nothing to do with this, and you'd leave him out of it if you know what's best for you." And with that, Wesker had somehow gotten around the table and appeared in front of her with a hand around her throat. His face was inches away from hers as he squeezed her trachea.

"You are in no position to be making threats," Wesker hissed into her ear. She struggled to get free, but it was all in vain, as her hands and legs were still immobilized. All she succeeded in doing was bruising her wrists and ankles as everything started to go dark. "You will answer my questions accurately and without delay, do I make myself clear?" Claire glared in his general direction with no indication that she had heard him. "Typical stubborn Redfield," he said in mock disappointment as he removed his hand from her neck. She immediately gasped for air, and continued glaring at him. He was wearing all black, and stalked back to the chair he had been sitting in with the ease and confidence of a panther. She could see his arm muscles wrippling beneath his shirt, and her eyes flitted up to his sharp-featured face. He really was handsome...Claire shook her head violently. _What the hell is the matter with you?! He just tried to kill you! _

"Is something the matter, dearheart?" Wesker inquired as he noticed her shaking her head.

"No. What are you going to do now?"

"I wasn't aware that I answered to you. Where is your brother?"

"Nowhere near here."

"Ah. What a pity. I would've relished in being able to kill you in front of him. The look on his face alone-"

"Stop!" Claire shouted over top of him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Well, Claire." Her skin crawled as he used her first name. "While I am a very busy man, all work and no play makes for a very dull time."

* * *

When HUNK walked by the interrogation room, he caught a glimpse of something that surprised him. The red-haired woman was sitting with her back to the door, but Wesker had a small smirk on his face. If HUNK hadn't been so used to seeing his face in a stoic expression, he wouldn't have been able to notice this slight change in appearance. The soldier immediately felt eyes on him as soon as that thought crossed his mind, and knew that Wesker must have been staring at him from behind his sunglasses. The blond tyrant beckoned to him, and the man in the gas mask quickly opened the door and stood at attention.

"I'd like for you to show Miss Redfield to one of the spare quarters," Wesker deadpanned. "Separate from the men, with a...'secure' door." By this, of course he meant that he wanted her locked in. Understandable, but why not just use one of the holding cells? Or better yet, put her on his table and carve her up. But HUNK didn't question it. He just undid the cuffs, grabbed the woman roughly by the arm, and guided her to her room.

* * *

As much as Claire hated it, she had no other choice but to submit to being shoved down the corridor, at least for now. Perhaps, if they had enough distance between them and Wesker, she'd be able to escape from this man before she was locked in. She had no qualms about hurting him, after all, he worked for Wesker, and he was one of the men that brought her in. He didn't even have a gun drawn, which was overly cocky of him. Claire wasn't sure if he was underestimating her, or if it was the other way around. Either way, she would wait for her chance. She felt like she was caught in a spider's web, but little did she know how tangled she would become.

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews, suggestions, and constructive criticism. If there's something you think I'm missing, or something I could improve on, please point it out. I intend to keep working on, and improving this story as much as possible. **


	5. Further Down The Rabbit Hole

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Resident Evil**

HUNK was leading the woman to the room that was not currently in use, and currently had his hand clamped tightly on the back of her arm. He thought it was safe to assume that she wouldn't try to get away, seeing as it would be quite a hopeless situation. They were on an island in Wesker's secure building, and Wesker himself was probably still right down the hall. Any attempt to escape would be a futile one. They were walking down the corridor towards the barracks, and they hadn't seen anybody else. The redheaded woman glanced at him. _Here it comes_, HUNK thought.

Claire twisted herself around out of his grip, and attempted land an uppercut. The mercenary leaned to the side to avoid it, and managed to get her in a headlock, but the girl elbowed him in the side of the head. His grip loosened, and the took off down the hallway. _That woman can hit hard_, HUNK thought as he took off down the hallway after her. All of this took place within 45 seconds, and Claire had already rounded the corner at the end of the hallway.

* * *

_Where am I going, where am I going!? _Claire thought as she skidded around the corner of the hall and continued running. She didn't know where she was going, but there had to be someway out. Right?

She noticed that there was an open door further down the hall to the left. She quickly darted in, closing the door behind her. She looked around for anything; a weapon, a window, a phone...it was just a small room that resembled a doctor's office. There was that elevated seat with a roll of paper unfurled on top of it. The paper had little ducks on it. There was also a desk with a locked computer, and a rollable cabinet that was labeled with things such as "gloves," "syringes," and "sutures." That was also locked. _Where the hell am I?_ She noticed another door at other end of the small room, and opened it. What she saw was surprising.

It was a long hallway with doctors in scrubs and nurses in their pastel-colored clothes walking about. Here and there were people being pushed about in wheelchairs dressed in civilian clothes, and most of them didn't look much worse for ware. They were smiling and laughing. This place even smelled like a hospital. _How is this even here...was I drugged? _Claire wondered, turning around to look back at the door. Then she remembered that she was being chased, and kept going down the hallway, bumping into people here and there in her hurry. They all looked at her as if she was insane as she sprinted past them, and she soon heard a few of them being knocked to the ground as somebody's combat boots squeaked on the floor after her. The redhead didn't dare risk glancing back to see how close he was, it could cost her a few seconds. Instead, she pulled carts and gurneys that were along the wall out into the middle of the path, hoping to slow her persuer down. And as soon as she made it around another corner, she darted into another room and slammed the door behind her.

She backed away from the door as the boots quickly squeaked across the polished floor on the other side, and continued further away from the hiding spot. There was a soft beeping sound behind her, and she turned around to see a wrinkled elderly man laying on a cot. He was hooked up to an IV and had an oxygen max on. The beeping had come from the heart-rate monitor. The man was laying on his side and staring at her. Claire put a finger on her lips, the universal sign for "be quiet," and dropped herself into the chair next to the cot. The man continued to stare at her. He was wearing red flannel pajamas, and had the paper-thin sheet of the hospital bed pulled up to his neck as if he was cold. Claire noted that it was actually quite warm in the room, or maybe that was because she had been running to get away from certain people. "Where are we?" she whispered to the old man on the cot. He shrugged. but pointed towards the end of the bed. Claire's head dashed to the side, expecting to see that the man was pointing at somebody else in the room. She was wrong, they were the only ones there. When she turned her head, she found that the patient was now unconscious.

Slowly creeping towards the door she had come through, she leaned to the side so she could look through the window that was set into the door. More doctors and nurses rushing through the hallways, but no more mercenaries...wait, what was that? A splash of red standing out against the sterile background flashed in Claire's peripheral. There was a doctor carrying what looked like a miniature licker in a cage, blood dripping out of the side through the metal grate. Another man followed behind with a mop to clean up the mess being left behind. Claire had to do a double-take, it was just so surreal. The doctors and nurses continued to rush around as though nothing was going on as the man disappeared into a door at the end of the hallway. This had to be another research facility, but what about the supposed patients walking around? She walked back to the seat next to the old man, grabbing the chart hanging from the end of his bed and looked at him once again. He was still staring up at her with big, watery eyes. Claire thought they were the saddest looking eyes she had ever seen. She glanced at the chart. Under the medications listed were "Flunitrazepam" and "Diazepam." Diazepam was Valium, but she had no idea what the other medication was. Looking back up at the old man, she asked a question that had been in the back of her head since she had arrived on this island. "What is going on here?"

He seemingly looked past her, eyes widening. With a feeble hand, he pointed a shaking finger towards the door. Claire looked behind her just in time to see somebody starting to open the door, and swiftly slid out of the chair and under the bed.

* * *

The belongings that had been confiscated from the Redfield was brought in and set on Wesker's desk, as requested. The blond tyrant sat in his chair and picked up the one item of interest. Claire's cellphone. It was a small blue flip phone with a little silver cross charm dangling from it. _She really is misguided_, he thought to himself. He opened the phone to see a screensaver of the Redfield siblings at a beach somewhere, Claire clearly having jumped on Chris's back to take the photo. The elder sibling had a surprised look on his face, and the very image of him made Wesker's blood boil. But Claire's smile...he shook his head to clear it of any unneeded thoughts, and dialed Chris Redfield's number.

**A/N: I know I haven't updated in a while, but I had writer's block for a while. I was a little bit iffy about the direction the story took in this chapter, but all will be explained in due time. Review? What did you think? **


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